Chapter 7
Noah
Fix two problems with one stone. That was how the saying went, right?
The stone—or plan, or whatever—was to go to the Rainbow Bean’s bisexual mixer, talk to Frankie and Diego about advertising and possibly fundraising for Charlie’s shelter, and find a nice bi playmate for Aspen.
They’d agreed to a threesome to make Aspen more comfortable with the idea of venturing out and finding other folks to date, but in reality, they didn’t think Aspen would need him.
Would he like to have a threesome with them?
Absolutely. The more they slept together, the more Noah wanted to spend every waking second with them, but he knew that wasn’t sustainable.
Eventually, Aspen would need more, and they deserved to have more.
Noah had applied to three different therapists with Charlie’s help–in other words, with Charlie putting Sir Hamlet, the eighty-pound German Shepherd, on his lap and refusing to get him off until Noah sent in the applications.
He’d been accepted by one and had his first appointment scheduled for the following week.
He knew therapy wasn’t a magic wand, though.
There was no telling if his therapist would be able to help him unwind the snarled mess that his parents had turned him into.
Speaking of his parents, something was definitely going on with them.
They never reached out to him as often as they were.
Every tense phone call and curt text inquiring about his love life and interrogating his every life decision was like a band around his chest. It was making it harder and harder to breathe as he fought with himself each and every day of their trial period to figure out why he couldn’t just have easy, romantic feelings for Aspen.
Of course, not everything would be easy, even if he did choose to date Aspen.
His parents still wouldn’t be happy, but at least he’d have something to fight back with.
Right now, he felt like he was dodging and weaving expectations left and right, all the while tangling himself up until he didn’t know how he was ever going to loosen the knot in his chest.
It was only going to get worse from here.
As the time ticked away on their trial relationship and the holidays approached, he could feel himself winding even tighter.
Aspen hadn’t put any real pressure on him, outside of recommending he see a therapist, but his parents were incessant.
They wanted him to come home for one, if not both, of the winter holidays, and Noah would rather spend all of Thanksgiving weekend or Christmas week under Sir Hamlet than do that.
He would probably go home for one of the holidays, even though he desperately didn’t want to.
His mom had a way of guilting him into a lot of things by recounting all the ways Braxton had let the family down and saying things like “we expect better of you after all that nonsense in your twenties,” or “we’ve already been through enough with your brother, don’t you start now, too. ”
At least he had the mixer to look forward to. He always had fun at Rainbow Bean events, and he was rather curious how Aspen was going to go about finding someone to flirt with.
Fifteen minutes into the event, Noah learned an interesting fact about his best friend. They had absolutely no game.
While he talked with Diego about the shelter, Noah watched out of the corner of his eye as Aspen flitted around between groups, awkwardly standing on the periphery, laughing a little too loudly at something someone said, before scurrying off to the next group.
“Alright, I think that’s all the information I need about the shelter,” Diego said, drawing Noah’s eyes away from his ridiculous friend. “We’ll set up a donation box right next to the cash register, and we’ll try to encourage folks to do that instead of tipping.”
“Oh, Diego, you don’t have to do–”
“I can even hold up a photo of one of those sad-eyed dogs!” Frankie said, throwing an arm around Diego’s shoulder and grinning across the counter at Noah.
“We could play that sad dog commercial song over the speakers,” Diego said, clearly joking, but Frankie’s eyes lit up like it was the best idea he’d heard all day.
“Yes! I’ll see if we can get it in different instrumental forms, and we could even name some of the pastries after the dogs in the shelter!”
Diego threaded his arm around Frankie’s waist and pecked him on the cheek. “I was joking about the music, querido, but the pastries are actually a really good idea. It would be free marketing for the animals and hopefully will encourage more folks to donate.”
That did sound like a good idea, but Noah was still pretty hung up on the tipping thing.
“Why don’t we put it over by the wall of flyers, and we can put up some posters of the dogs available for adoption.
That way, when folks see their names on the pastries, you can direct them over to the donation box? ”
Diego squinted at him, but Frankie nodded his head eagerly. “You should make them tear away flyers so folks can take home little pictures of the dogs to their families! We have a lot of success with those.”
They talked for a few more minutes about the size of posters, and Diego even walked Noah over to the wall so he could take some pictures for Aspen to reference later.
Meanwhile, Aspen was still doing their awkward flirting musical chairs around the room.
He was currently talking to a guy who looked like he’d just arrived from a grunge band practice, and another man who looked ready to give a boardroom presentation.
As Noah approached, he heard the tail end of Aspen telling the grunge guy all the different ways he could style his hair.
“Just ask Noah, this is my third hair color, and it hasn’t done anything bad to my hair!
We use really gentle bleach at the salon, and the color is free of harsh chemicals,” Aspen said, throwing out their arm and pulling Noah in by his waist. They leaned their head on his chest, which he didn’t mind in the slightest, but that seemed to sort of defeat the purpose of chatting up these two men if they were just going to act like a couple.
“What do you think, mensch? Would Kevin in HR write me up if I showed up with pink hair?” the guy with the barbed wire tattoo on his neck asked.
Noah squinted at his nametag, which read Leon in jagged handwriting. The other man’s nametag said “James he/him” with the same trans sticker Noah had on his own nametag.
James seemed to take in Aspen’s hair before gazing back at Leon. “He would definitely not be thrilled. I think you could pull it off, though.”
Leon leaned his shoulder into James’ and smiled down at him. “I’ll do it if you do it. I bet you’d look hot in pink.”
James snorted, and his cheeks darkened as he turned his head away but continued to peek up at Leon through his lashes. “I’ll, uh, think about it.”
Ah, so maybe that was why Aspen was clinging to Noah’s side. There was clearly something going on between these two if even Noah could pick up on it.
They continued talking to the two men for a few more minutes before Aspen announced they wanted a drink. They released Noah as they got in line for coffee, but they were still standing practically on top of him.
“I thought you were going to try and meet some new folks tonight?” Noah asked quietly.
“I just met James and Leon,” Aspen said, gesturing across the room towards where the two men had sat down. Leon’s foot was resting rather obviously against James’ leg under the table.
Noah rolled his eyes. “Yes, but it seems like they’re a bit preoccupied with each other.”
Aspen snorted. “That’s for fucking sure.”
They stepped forward in line, and Aspen remained glued to his side. “I meant, I thought you were going to try and meet someone.”
“I am!”
“Then why are you attached to me right now?”
Aspen was so close to him, he could feel the muscles in their leg shift as they tapped their foot. “I’m just getting myself a cute little drink, then I’ll go socialize some more.”
It was their turn to step up to the counter, and they ordered tea for Noah and a double caffeinated, over-sweetened abomination for Aspen.
“The sugar will give me strength,” Aspen said as they walked over to the other side of the counter to wait for their drinks.
“Lord, give me strength,” Noah mumbled, and Aspen elbowed him.
“This was your idea, so you get to suffer through this with me.”
Noah tried to do a subtle sweep of the room, noting that most folks seemed to have come with at least one other person, if not a group of friends. It wasn’t really conducive to flirting or one-on-one connection.
“It’s okay if you just want to socialize tonight. There doesn’t need to be any added pressure.”
Aspen shook their head, their newly dyed pink hair flopping back and forth. “It’s fine. I’m working myself up to it. You know it takes me a little while to get going.”
Noah nearly jumped out of his skin when a curly-haired stranger stepped into their little bubble. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. Are you guys as nervous about talking to strangers as I am?”
Aspen, who had been staring off into space, turned to look at the newcomer.
Her nametag read ‘Rachel she/her,’ and she had a similar build to Aspen, but was around an inch or two taller.
After giving her a quick once-over, the corner of Aspen’s mouth curved up into what Noah had come to think of as their customer service smile.
Before they could say anything, though, Rachel’s eyes went wide, and one of her hands flew up to her chest.
“Oh–sorry!” she said, a blush rapidly spreading across her freckled cheeks. “I mean–are, uh, y'all as nervous as I am?”
Noah wasn’t really sure what to make of that, but before he could ask her to clarify, Aspen laughed.
“Oh, honey, you’re fine. I respond to guys, gals, pals, y’all– it doesn’t matter.”